


Invasion

by barefout



Category: Elementary (TV)
Genre: Angst, Comfort, F/M, Joanlock - Freeform, fuck hellenic dental care, fuck mycroft tbh, fuck sherlock being upset
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-09
Updated: 2017-03-09
Packaged: 2018-10-01 14:49:16
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,227
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10192319
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/barefout/pseuds/barefout
Summary: A fic based on Mycroft crashing Sherlock's meeting in 2x07 because he never got called out on how fucking awful that was.





	

**Author's Note:**

> I'm still bitter so I wrote this fic as therapy. 
> 
> N.B. I obviously take no credit for Sherlock's beautiful speech though I wish I could

The meeting had gone relatively well, Joan mused, as the clock approached the hour mark. None of Sherlock's petulant tactics had reared their head, no self-hypnotism or incessant muttering, recently he had really begun to appreciate the value of going to meetings. His desire to remain sober had finally conquered his petty defiance (most days). He still didn't share with the group often however, so she startled as his voice ripped her from her thoughts. 

"I often wonder if I should have been born in another time." His disregard for protocol didn't bode well with the group. "Sorry, my name is Sherlock, and I'm an addict."

"Hi, Sherlock."

"My-my...My senses are unusually - well, one could even say unnaturally - keen. And ours is an era of distraction. It's, uh, a punishing drumbeat of constant input. This-this cacophony which follows us into our homes and into our beds and seeps into our...into our souls, for want of a better word."

He paused and Joan took a moment to marvel at the eloquency of his words. He was articulating feelings in a way she'd never expected to hear, especially in a public meeting.

She couldn't deny the small swell of her heart with pride.

"For a long time, uh, there was only one poultice for my raw nerve endings, and that was, uh, copious drug use. So in my less productive moments, I'm given to wonder if I'd just been born when it was a little quieter out there, would I have even become an addict in the first place? Might I have been more focused? A more fully realized person?"

"What, like Ancient Greece?" A young man to their side blurted.

"You any idea what passed for dental care in the Hellenic era?" His reply made Joan smirk. "No, no, I'd, um, I'd want some of the wonders of modernity. Just before everything got amplified."

"Something like what?"

A second British voice joined the discussion, causing both Sherlock and Joan to whip their heads round violently. There - reclined smugly on one of the uncomfortable fold-up chairs - was Mycroft Holmes.

Sherlock seemed stunned for a moment, he flushed in what was no doubt a mix of anger and embarrassment before stuttering some apologies and leaping to his feet. Joan hurried after him, glaring at Mycroft and hissing "outside".

When they reached the hallway Sherlock was pacing slightly, his hands fluttering around manically. Joan went to step towards him before Mycroft distracted her.

"Did you really mean what you said in there or were you just winding them up?"

Joan was fuming, she knew any mockery would destroy months of confidence building and she wasn't going to allow it.

"Mycroft! Not another word!" She bellowed.

"I wouldn't have said anything at all if I'd known the meeting was compromised." Sherlock huffed out, fists now clenched by his sides.

Joan stepped between the brothers and turned to a smirking Mycroft. His invasion had the potential to be detrimental to Sherlock's recovery routine and she had to intervene before the situation went any further. Sherlock needed her so _she_ needed Mycroft out of the way.

"Mycroft, just..." She paused, realising she had no idea why he was here. "Wait, what are you doing here? Where are you staying?"

"I'm here strictly on Diogenes business, my New York restaurant is opening, I'm all set up in a hotel don't worry, just wanted to catch my brother. In fact I was going to offer to take you to the restaurant now, there's a delicious meal waiting for us." He smarmed. 

Joan looked over at Sherlock who was still tense and breathing deeply.

"Look, you go and order a taxi, we might join you in a minute." She just wanted him outside, she could feel the radiation of Sherlock's discomfort and not being able to console him was excruciating.

Mycroft murmured agreements and left the hallway to make the call. Within seconds Joan had her arms around Sherlock, held tight as if she was shielding him from any further assaults. She could barely make out his fast heartbeat and shaky breathing over her own. She pulled back and placed a hand on each of his cheeks, cradling his angst-ridden face.

"Sherlock, listen to me right now, listen to me." She leant back to make sure he was looking her in the eye. "Please do not let your brother compromise anything, I know sharing like that's a big deal for you and you can't let Mycroft ruin that."

"There's a reason I don't..open up, Watson, I can never explain the inner workings of my mind with comprehension and I sound stupid when I try-"

"Stop" She interrupted his descent into self-deprecation. "Sherlock, what you said in there was incredible. Don't scoff, it was. The way you explained it, it really made me understand, I feel like I know you better after hearing that. That's worth something."

"You know it really isn't safe, any number of my enemies could infiltrate these meetings, could be listening in, accumulating information. For both our safeties I don't think I can share again." His ramblings made her sigh, she knew he was much less concerned about evil plots than he was the embarrassment he was feeling.

"Sherlock I understand why you're upset, I know it's essential to feel secure and anonymous here and that right now you feel vulnerable. Your brother has unbalanced all of that, I'm not sure whether he intended to or if he's just an idiot, mind you." She slowed down and drew her thumbs across his cheeks in a caress. "It's taken you a while to build up the courage and maturity to really utilise these meetings, you cannot allow a stupid choice by your brother to make you forget that."

Joan was still very aware of the tension running through his stiff body, it was her job to melt it away. She tucked her fingers under his chin and leant up to kiss him, they hadn't been together long and the act of kissing Sherlock Holmes was still something accompanied by a hint of trepidation. There was no need to worry however as when she pulled her face back from the brief kiss he followed it, gripping her waist tighter and prolonging the meeting of their lips. She sensed him physically relax and wrapped her arms around his neck as their tongues met.

A loud cough - Mycroft's second interruption of the night - drew the couple apart. He was stood eyebrows raised, making a poor attempt of appearing unbothered.

"Well, well, that certainly explains a lot doesn't it? How'd you manage that one, Sherlock?" His words took the form of light brotherly teasing but both knew he was trying to put Sherlock down. To provide Sherlock with an unneeded reminder that Joan was too good for him. She'd had enough of Mycroft and knew Sherlock had to.

"I'm sorry, Mycroft," she wrapped her arm around Sherlock's waist, they'd pulled apart upon Mycroft's intrusion, "I'm afraid we won't be joining you today, I'm sure we'll find the time soon."

She gave Mycroft a disingenuous smile, and turned to look at her partner. His delight was practically tangible as he gave a curt wave and watched his brother make his excuses and exit. He turned to Joan, beaming, and smirked. 

"You know, I think he likes you."

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote this quickly and feel like I'm on a roll so I'm gonna write some more shippy fics, be sure to leave kudos and comment if you like!


End file.
